


one damn thing, over and over

by nevernevergirl



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Post-AYITL, Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9878597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevernevergirl/pseuds/nevernevergirl
Summary: They aren't really friends, but they were once. They aren't in love, but they've done that before too. Rinse, lather, and repeat.Or: some things that probably didn't happen during AYITL, but technically could have happened during AYITL.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I know there's no real canonical evidence for any of this, but it's not technically AU in the sense that none of its rendered impossible? The result of what if-ing some roryjess behind the scenes. I haven't written this pairing in roughly a decade, what the hell. Title bastardized from Edna St. Vincent Millay, because today's her birthday.

_June_

 

It's been four years since you've seen her. Probably just under a year since you last spoke to her on the phone, a few months at least since you last caught each other on GChat, and a half hour since your last text.

 

Not that you're counting.

 

Her hair is different. It looks good. She's talking too fast and her voice is laced with a frantic kind of self-doubt that's part familiar mixed with all the time you've missed. 

 

It's never hard, getting to know her again.

 

_July_

 

"I think I'm moving back to New York."

 

"With or without underwear?"

 

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

 

"Always a woman of mystery. I'll send you a housewarming gift."

 

"If it comes in a Victoria's Secret bag, I'm ending this friendship."

 

"Noted."

  

_August_

 

 She shows up at Truncheon unannounced because she doesn't have your address. You aren't those kind of friends. You aren't sure what kind of friends you are.

 

"I had a fight with my mom," she says, shoulders braced tightly, defensively. You feel eighteen, and you feel the decade between you-- all at once. You feel the cool soft skin at her wrist when you tug her to your car and take her home. You feel something old wrapped up in something new, and you can't tell which part's the scary one, but you were never easily spooked by the monsters under your bed.

 

  _September_

 

 You've taken 5 trips to Stars Hollow in less than 5 weeks. You'd like to say it's Luke, you'd like to say it's your mother's vegetable cult.

 

It's not _not_  those things.

 

But it's also this: late nights above the diner with chinese food and slasher films, later nights on her childhood bed trading paperbacks and kisses, early mornings with her head tucked against your shoulder.

 

It's treading dangerously close to good, and you don't talk about it, not really. It's almost a relief.

 

_October_

 

 She takes your hand and your heart's doing something fucking _insane._

 

"Jess. I'm pregnant."


End file.
